


In Too Deep

by buttercupross



Category: Fall Out Boy, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, I cant write angst I'm sorry this will be angst free, M/M, Ryden, Swimming, i have a fragile heart, lots of fluff, maybe some smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-01
Updated: 2016-09-13
Packaged: 2018-06-05 18:50:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6716911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buttercupross/pseuds/buttercupross
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ryan Ross is gay. Like really gay. Like so gay, he offers to cover the swim team's meet for the school paper just so he can stare at the gorgeous team captain Brendon Urie for hours on end. Fortunately, Brendon just so happens to be gay too and well, willing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Splash. Bang. Smoke.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ryan is crumby and sarcastic but very cute

Ryan almost gagged on the heavy smell of chlorine as he pushed a strand of his dark brown hair out of his eyes and watched the swimmers, mindlessly jotting down notes on his paper. He had never liked the smell of swimming pools, or swimming in general, but when the head of the school newspaper needed a volunteer to cover the swim team's first meet of the season, he had practically jumped out of his seat and screamed like a five year old girl.

It wasn't because he had a passionate love for sports writing or a need to fill the abyss that was his knowledge about swimming, he would much rather be writing a review of the drama club's production of Hairspray or even an article concerning the Gay Straight Alliance's achievements in the month of December; it was more like a passionate love for the charming, popular, flamboyant captain of the swim team, Brendon Urie.

Ryan had admired him from afar for the past year and a half, and even though he knew it was irrational considering Brendon hadn't said anything to him besides "Thanks" and "Can I borrow a pencil?" he considered himself absolutely smitten.

But because Brendon was confident, openly gay, and had this breathtakingly gorgeous smile, he was basically every closet-case's dream and Ryan knew he didn't stand a chance. So, he was perfectly okay with watching Brendon be the beautiful human he was from a safe distance away.

A rather far safe distance away.

But for some unknown reason Spencer Smith (the obnoxious, un-funny dunce sitting next to Ryan who technically qualified as his best friend) couldn't digest the idea that Ryan was impeccably fine with their lack of communication and took it into his own hands to set up 'chance encounters,' where they would inevitably end up being forced into a conversation.

Usually, these concluded with Ryan looking weak or helpless because he had been shoved by Spencer either into Brendon himself or, on the unfortunately more often occasion when Spencer missed, he ended up eating the cold, hard lockers in front of him.

Naturally, Ryan didn't quite mind bumping into Brendon, he was soft and smelt nice, but _still_.

Ryan sighed, tucking his notebook back into his velvet, maroon messenger bag, which totally wasn't a purse as Spencer had insisted. He lifted his head up, his eyes immediately finding Brendon who was stretching his tan, muscular arms over his head as he laughed, talking to some shorter blonde-haired boy who was so clearly hanging on to every word he said, it was sickening.

Ryan felt his heart jump in his chest, a pang of jealousy stabbing him in the stomach. He folded his arms across his torso as he clenched his jaw, when a pair of large, calloused hands clapped twice in front of his face, causing him to blink rapidly in shock.

"Earth to Ryan." Spencer mocked, ignoring Ryan's deathly glares at him as he irritatedly tapped his fingers against his knee.

"Y'know if you could stop gawking at his ass for a solid two minutes, maybe you would've actually processed the fact that I dunno, I was talking to you?"

Ryan was about to protest that he was not in fact checking Brendon out, but Spencer didn't even give him a change to breathe before launching into a seemingly endless rant about how he should be paying attention to the meet, Brendon wasn't even that cute, (Ryan noted it was a little ironic that a straight guy was suddenly the new aficionado on cute boys) and that the newspaper had trusted him to be a professional writer, but Ryan had eventually learned to tune him out and just direct his undivided attention towards the handsome boy with warm brown eyes and smooth skin over tight, formed muscles as he said something that caused the group of people swarmed around him to burst out laughing, a fuzzy feeling filing Ryan's chest.

"I don't understand what you see in him." Spencer remarked, scrunching up his nose in disapproval as Ryan adverted his gaze, realizing he had been staring too long.

"Well, you do claim to be straight." Ryan combatted, picking at the rips in his tight, solid black jeans as he pulled his lips together in a firm line.

He didn't like taking about his crush with Spencer. Actually, he hated it with a burning passion. It somehow always seemed ridiculous, being so lovesick over someone he barely knew. But then he would look over at Brendon again who would be smiling beautifully while holding open the heavy glass doors for people as they came in or consoling upset members of his team when they didn't do well in their events; and suddenly it just didn't seem quite as ridiculous.

Spencer huffed, clicking his pen as he scowled. "I meant, if I was gay, I probably wouldn't date him, I mean, he's nice and pretty as far as boys go,"

Ryan rolled his hazel eyes, failing at suppressing a grin from emerging on the corners of his mouth.

"But there's nothing there, like if you've ever actually had a conversation with him it's like talking to a moody, hormonal robot. Like he's just not smart enough to actually have a worthwhile discussion with."

Ryan scowled defensively, the smirk melting off his face. "So he's not the intellectual, bookworm you've been fucking in the back of the library during 5th period, but he is–"

"I am _not_ fucking Jon Walker!" Spencer said a little too loudly, his cheeks glowing pink as a few people turned their heads towards them in confusion.

Ryan had to bite down on the inside of his cheeks to keep from laughing.

"Hell, Ryan I'm not even gay!" Spencer fumed, glaring at his best friend angrily.

"Who said anything about Jon Walker?" Ryan pointed out, a devilish smile spreading across his lips as Spencer blushed miserably, his scowl deepening as he stammered, completely flustered.

"Whatever, I'm not fighting you, you're dumb." Spencer muttered irritatedly, shoving Ryan with his thick shoulder.

"You're the one who brought him up." Ryan chimed, shoving him back.

"I'm not gay."

Ryan smiled, stretching out his shoulders, crossing his legs as he made a disapproving click with his tongue. "Sounds an awful lot like denial to me my friend."

"What does?"

Ryan picked his head up immediately, his eyes locking with a pair of glinting, dark brown ones as his stomach dropped. Oh– _oh shit_.

The cheerful boy grinned at them perkily as Ryan quickly looked back down at his feet, taking note of the grimy water that had been collecting on the sides of his sneakers as he felt fiery heat rise in his cheeks.

"Oh, uh sorry," He gushed, clearly noticing Ryan's reaction. "I didn't mean to be nosy, I just needed to ask Spencer something." He explained, the brilliant smile remaining unfazed on his features as Ryan felt the moisture in his mouth disappear.

"It's Ryan, right?" Brendon greeted him amiably, making Ryan's throat close up as he wiped his palms on his jeans. He forced a smile, meeting Brendon's gaze as he nodded reluctantly. Ryan thought he might be sick.

"Hey Brendon," Spencer grinned evilly, shooting Ryan a not-so-discreet, knowing smirk.

Ryan probably would've punched him if Brendon wasn't standing right there.

In front of them. Talking to them. Well, talking to Spencer, but Ryan by association, and that was terrifying enough for him.

"So, you guys are covering the meet for the paper, and need like pictures for your article thing right? Cause I took a bunch during the last event and they actually turned out pretty good, and I just wanted to know if you guys wanted to use any of them." He stated, grinning like the cheshire cat.

Spencer nodded enthusiastically and Ryan tried to smile at him, praying he would just get called to his event already.

"Yeah of course! It would be pretty cool considering you're part of the team." Spencer agreed, looking over in Ryan's direction. Ryan cringed internally.

"Y'know, you should probably send them to Ryan, he's in charge of all of our photography." Spencer lied as Brendon beamed at him in reply.

Ryan contemplated who he would rather shoot right now: Spencer or himself.

"Yeah, sure thing." Brendon said, directing his attention towards Ryan. "I'll add my number and then send them to you later if you want." He continued, smiling brightly as Ryan estimated how quickly he could get Spencer to drown if he pushed him under now and pulled him out before Brendon's event started.

Ryan shifted, pulling his phone out of his jean pocket, trying not to let the blush he was fighting back seep into his cheeks as he handed it over unwillingly. Spencer winked smugly at Ryan while Brendon was busy focusing on getting his clumsy thumbs to press the right letters. Ryan glared back at him.

"Anyone participating in the mile event, please make your way over to the your diving block's now." A man's muffled voice echoed loudly throughout the pool area over a speaker.

Brendon smiled gently, giving Ryan back his phone as he glanced back towards the pool. "Well, that's my call, I'll see you around." He noted, waving as he started to walk back over to his lane.

"Good luck." Ryan barely managed, his cheeks flaring up as soon as the words passed his lips. Brendon turned his head back around and momentarily giving him a smile that made Ryan's knees go weak before jogging over to where he was supposed to be.

Ryan looked down at his phone and almost choked when he saw that Brendon had added a little :) by his name.

* * *

Ryan watched eagerly as Brendon shook himself out before hopping on the block confidently, sliding his goggles over his eyes and adjusting his dark blue swim cap to ensure that it wouldn't slip.

"Swimmers step up." The announcer's voice shouted over the speakers as everyone on the pool deck went silent, watching in anticipation. Ryan stared as Brendon wiggled his toes over the edge of the solid white diving block, his whole body shaking slightly with adrenaline. He took a deep breath, his muscular chest inflating as he bent over to grab the edge of the block to start his mile long swim, a stupidly cocky smile pressed to his lips. God was he beautiful.

"Take your mark."

He wrapped his long, agile fingers around the block and leaned forward, looking as if he were about to assault something, and lane four was his rather unlucky target.

Ryan sat in awe as he dove into the water, shattering its calm surface like broken glass, only a small splash being produced as he began his streamline towards the opposite end of the pool. His muscular, toned body looked blurred as it flew under the translucent water at an unbelievable speed, Ryan's eyes widening as he stared at the boy, completely mesmerized.

He always had assumed Brendon was good, considering he was a captain, but he never expected him to look so natural, like swimming was a sixth sense. It just came so easily to him, and god was it attractive.

Ryan, of course, didn't realize he was staring until Brendon broke the surface of the water with a loud crash and took his first, wide, three strokes, all without a single breath.

"Must have large lungs." Spencer muttered under his breath, which made Ryan begin to wonder what else was large on that boy.

He shook the thought, regretfully noticing that Brendon had already done a graceful flip turn and was on his way down to the other side of the pool, and groaning when he realized that he was on his fifth lap already and he was actually supposed to be doing something besides gaping at his defined back muscles.

He hurriedly pulled his notepad and pen back out of his handbag and started scribbling notes down about how easily his favorite swimmer was kicking the sixteen fifty's ass.

Brendon kept on swimming and Ryan kept on writing, Spencer catching him when he was slacking on his notes, which would cause him to blush a little bit when he tried to make up some excuse about his hand being cramped or not enough space being left on the page. Spencer would just roll his eyes.

By the time Brendon was on his twenty-eighth lap, Ryan was chewing edgily on the end of his pencil, practically sweating in anticipation. Brendon had been swimming his heart out, his cheeks flushed pink and his breathing heavy when he tipped his head to the side for breath, but so was the ugly fucking asshole in lane five who Ryan was contemplating throwing his eraser at. Every time Brendon kicked he shot forward and was that much closer to winning, but every time he took a breath, he was falling behind.

The sounds of nervous shouts and hollers from the deck got louder and more frequent until they were almost deafening as the whole swim team had started screaming and cheering on one of their captains. Even Ryan was cheering from the front row of the stands between periods of scribbling down times and names and other things on his notepad that were supposedly more important than staring at Brendon's ass.

When the closing lap finally came, he was kicking hard, his face a bright red as his strong strokes created soft ripples in the water behind him. He hadn't taken a breath since his previous lap, which was funny, because he was the one who was getting a workout in and yet Ryan was taking approximately 20 breaths per second. He let out a yell as Brendon rushed past the hanging colorful flags and hit the water exceptionally hard for his last five yards. He huffed, his sopping wet hand reaching out and grabbing the wall, the pool deck screaming at full volume. Ryan sighed in relief as he quickly scribbled down Brendon's time. 15:02.03.

He smiled, as he glanced back up, his eyes locking with Brendon's as his stomach did a backflip.

Ryan decided that maybe he should admire him from a slightly shorter distance. His eyes were prettier up close.

* * *

"Well," Spencer muttered, his pencil making scrubbing sounds as he sketched out the template of their article, crossing one leg over the other. "We could add one of Brendon's pictures here, and like then we should put the stats and such over... here." He debated, shifting the tip of his pencil to the top of his rough draft as he wet his chapped lips. "And then we could put the second part down here, or is that tacky looking?" Spencer asked finally, lifting his head up for Ryan's input. Ryan shrugged.

"How can an article written for a school newspaper look tacky?" He questioned, shifting uncomfortably in the seat they had been sitting in for the past two hours.

"Well it could start by dressing its self in that vest."

Ryan frowned. "What's wrong with my vest?"

Spencer huffed, humored. "It's an, it's an interesting color." He mumbled, flicking his eyebrows as he brushed a piece of his long, sandy colored hair behind his ear swiftly. "It kinda makes you look like a skinny, emo grape."

Ryan pulled his eyebrows together, the corners of his mouth facing downwards as his hazel eyes glinted with annoyance.

"It's not grape, it's mauve." He protested irritatedly, but slid it off his shoulders self-consciously anyways, rolling up the sleeves of the solid black shirt he was wearing under it.

Spencer smirked in achievement, his eyes flickering back down to the outline he was creating. "You are so gay."

Ryan opened his mouth and took a deep breath, but couldn't think of a good enough comeback, so instead, leaned back in his seat and exhaled angrily, rasping his fingers against the wooden bench of the stands before staring back out at the pool.

Brendon had won two more events after his victorious mile-long swim, but he seemed to be the only person from Bishop Gorman High School to actually be doing so. Ryan didn't really feel it was his place to make comments about the swim team considering it was a sport he knew absolutely nothing about, but even he could see they were far past terrible. Too terrible to write a positive article about at least.

Although after his events, Brendon had disappeared into the locker rooms for roughly an hour now, making the whole competition seem suddenly very dull to Ryan. So, he had resorted to bleakly watching the other swimmers while rating their abs on a scale of 1-10. So far, Brendon still held the record with a 9.5. Spencer disagreed and gave him an 8. Ryan thought that was complete bs.

"This article is going to be a literal disaster." Spencer stated finally, sighing deeply as he rested his pen down on his notebook, his icy blue eyes dropping to his feet.

Ryan raised his eyebrows, looking down at his half empty page of notes. "You could say that again."

"We could just fill the page with more of Brendon's pictures," Spencer suggested, drawing a few more rectangles into his notes, "or quotes." He added, gnawing at his lower lip. "You should go around and interview the swimmers."

Ryan scowled in confusion. "Why can't you do it yourself?"

"Because I'm not the one looking for an excuse to talk to Brendon." He said, Ryan sighing in annoyance.

"What makes you think I want to talk to him?" Ryan asked, trying to remain as civil as possible.

"You do like him, don't you?"

"I– well, yeah I do." Ryan managed, his eyes adverting towards his shoes as blush softly creeped into his cheeks. He knew it was dumb to be embarrassed around Spencer out of all people but he didn't like admitting it was more than an infatuation to anyone really.

"Then talk to him you dipshit."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonus points if you get the chapter title/ if you actually know what mauve is. 
> 
> Because I know virtually nothing about swim, I had the wonderful, archive-less My Chemical Romance garbage also known as Meg help me out. Dedication for this part goes to her because she's kinda cool and I don't have any other friends. I hope you enjoyed the disgusting trash we wrote. This au might go in a number of directions, but my intention is to keep it short. Thanks a lot:)


	2. Going With The Flow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which my writing started sucky but progressively got better

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly don't know if I've had worse writers block in my life. Updates aren't going to be this slow, I promise, I just had no idea how to begin this one. The next chapter is written already, I just have to edit it. Again, if you're reading this, I'm sorry it took my so long to update. aaaa also it won't let me italicize help

Objective: grow some balls and interrogate Brendon Urie.

Ryan was seriously doubting that swimmers had brains, and strongly considered his theory of the chlorine shriveling every intelligent thought in their head into bits before they were washed out during the 100 meter freestyle.

Not a single one could give him a direct answer to any of the questions he had about the swim team.

He sighed, glancing downwards at his notebook, the page roughly less than half full of his illegible handwriting. Bits and phrases could be pulled out, but not nearly enough to write an adequate article.

He shook his head disapprovingly at his notes, attempting to review them without getting the overwhelming urge to shred the paper into bits of the useless responses the swimmers had been giving him. Not that they had been rude or sarcastic, but more often than not they answered with something along the lines of 'I don't know, you should ask Brendon,' or 'Brendon's the captain, he probably knows,' which was the least helpful thing Ryan's frustrated mind could come up with considering he was trying his hardest to avoid interviewing Brendon at all costs.

Eventually, Ryan concluded that either

a.) Spencer had pinned the entire swim team against him,

or b.) they just all happened to be very uneducated.

It's not like the questions were geared towards rocket scientists or olympic athletes; most of them were things about the team's record, or even a list of the people who were on it, but no.

Every. Single. Person. Had directed him to the all-knowing Brendon Urie.

Which is why he was scowling while seated on a mildly uncomfortable, metal bench in the middle of the locker room, half looking for Brendon, half doing the exact opposite of that as Spencer demanded he stop acting like a pussy over the phone that was wedged between his ear and his shoulder.

"I'm in the locker rooms, and he's not in here." Ryan protested, stuffing his pad of paper and pen into his jean pockets he shifted his view around the empty room. Clothes hung out of the shiny, red lockers that lined the bright gray, cinderblock walls, as voices echoed from outside.

"Did you look inside all the lockers?"

"Spencer his big toe couldn't fit in one of these lockers."

"Check the showers." Spencer said, his muffled voice sounding irritated as Ryan pushed his shaggy hair out of his eyes.

"I'm not checking the showers, you dickwad. What if he's using them?"

"Makes it that much more enjoyable for you then." Spencer remarked snarkily, as Ryan huffed, sliding the phone into his now empty hand as he rolled his amber eyes.

"Sorry, what's that?" He asked, his voice dripping with petulance. "I said–" "I think we're breaking up, I can't hear you."

Spencer rolled his eyes so hard you could practically hear it through the phone.

"Fucki–" "Sorry, I'll call you back the service in here sucks, bye man."

He sighed to himself as he pressed the red button at the bottom of the screen, cutting off what ever Spencer was trying to call him. Ryan turned to slide his phone into his pocket as he started to push himself off the seat, almost instantly getting trucked by a hard, moving body as he fell backwards onto the cold ground, his phone flying out of his grasp as he let his hands drop to his sides to catch his fall.

"Whoa, don't worry dude I caught it!" The boy said, displaying Ryan's unharmed phone as he ran his fingers through the front of his light blonde hair, grinning confidently.

Ryan glowered at him, completely unamused he rubbed the side of his neck. "Great." He deadpanned, hollowing his cheeks irritatedly as he stood up, brushing imaginary dirt off his pants. "Thanks,"

"Ethan." The boy beamed, holding out his phone. Ryan wasn't sure he asked.

"Thanks Ethan."

"No problem Ryan."

Ryan forced a smile, not bothering to ask how Ethan knew his name.

"So uh, what're you here for Ryan?"

Ryan took a few steps away cautiously, trying to determine the fastest route out of the room, realizing quickly that Ethan was blocking the door and the window above the nearest wall of lockers was closed. He sighed, "Uh, the, um school paper."

"Cool dude! I'm on the team."

"That's great, but I'm– wait, you're on the team?"

"Yeah bro, surprised you didn't notice me."

Ryan was about to make a comment about how he only noticed the attractive members, but kept it to himself.

"Yeah," Ryan started, reaching into his pocket, "do you think you could answer a few questions for me? It's for the paper."

Ethan smiled, letting a heavy breath escape from his lips. "Dude, I'd love to, but I'm really not the one you should ask. Bren's in the showers right now, he probably–"

"Knows. Yeah, I've been told." Ryan answered coldly, his eyes darting towards the shower doors. "Thanks anyways."

"Anytime R-dog." He grinned, turning on his heel and taking a few bouncy strides out of the room. Ryan stared after him, a confused expression on his face as he felt his heart rate increase slowly.

Ryan sighed, taking a slow step in the direction of the showers before extending his arm and resting his hand on the cold metal push bar, taking a deep breath. Now or never, right?

"Hey Brendon, do you-"

Ryan felt his entire face soften when he saw him, his jaw dropping slightly in shock as his heart jumped into his throat.

He sat on the long, steel shower bench in nothing but a pair of dark gray boxers, his legs crossed and his back pressed up against the grimy, white tiles behind him, his soft lips pursed ever so slightly as he kept his glossy eyes intently pressed to the pages of a thick book with a cerulean colored cover resting on his lap. His dark brown hair was damp and disheveled, a few pieces falling into his soft brown eyes as he kept them glued to the book, small beads of water dripping off the ends periodically, a few splashing on the top left corner of his page, others riding down the frame of his large, black glasses. Ryan didn't know he wore glasses.

He sniffled, scratching his nose before flipping the page, pulling his legs in closer to his body as Ryan cleared his throat, wrapping his long, agile fingers around the hem of his shirt in attempt to keep them from shaking. Brendon's head shot up immediately, his dark brown eyes wide with shock as he nearly dropped the book off his lap, his cheeks instantly glowing pink.

"Weird place for reading." Ryan commented, the corners of his mouth flickering upwards. "I've seen people reading on toilets, in coat closets– even on top of a firetruck once, but a locker room shower is a first."

Brendon opened his mouth like he was about to say something, but his words were cut short as he stared at Ryan awkwardly, a stunned looked evident on his features. He blinked, his blush intensifying as Ryan took a few steps towards the bench, Brendon's index finger flicking at the corner of the page anxiously.

"Not that weird," Brendon smiled shyly, pushing his dripping hair out of his face, "one time I went downstairs at one a.m. to eat leftovers and Jon was sitting in front of my fridge with like twelve stacks of books surrounding him." He said, his voice echoing quietly off the shower walls as he modestly pulled his legs closer into his body.

"Walker?" Ryan asked, his smile growing with disbelief.

Brendon nodded.

"I didn't realize you guys were friends," Ryan stated, steadying himself against the cold wall as he sat down on the seat in front of him.

"Yeah we're close," Brendon said, his cheeks loosing color as Ryan smiled at him warmly, his stomach swimming in nerves, "he lives next to me."

Ryan nodded, looking down at his boots sheepishly.

"So, what brings you into the boys locker room?" Brendon teased, causing Ryan's face to turn a temperature so hot that if anyone were to touch it, there was a likely chance of them getting a first-degree burn.

"Blackmail." He answered subconsciously, feeling his mouth go dry as Brendon looked at him, a soft smile twitching at the corners of his beautifully-shaped lips. "Pictures and access to the school paper can be valuable."

Brendon giggled, as Ryan felt a twist of disquietude rip through his stomach, practically overflowing with anxious excitement.

"Not to mention, the pictures can be used for... other things."

Brendon laughed a little harder, shaking his head as his shoulders scrunched up, drawing nervous laugher out of Ryan, who by now, was profusely turning scarlet.

"Oh my god Ryan," He finally sighed, rolling his eyes as Ryan's heart completely froze in his chest when Brendon said his name.

"Well, uh, what about you? You're not the only one who deserves an explanation as to why were sitting in a shower instead of out there."

"I'm hiding." Brendon said, raising his eyebrows momentarily as Ryan felt a half smile settle on his face.

"Hiding." Ryan repeated, as a piece of Brendon's hair fell into his eyes. "Do I want to know from what?"

"Just my thousands of adoring fans," Brendon said sarcastically, cocking his head to the side.

Ryan scoffed, fixing the collar of his shirt.

"I have english first period tomorrow, and I'm already supposed to be done with the first half." He clarified, gesturing to the novel in his hands.

"What book?" Ryan asked, straddling the end of the metal bench to look straight at him, his boots making soft taps as they hit against the white, tiled floor.

Brendon sighed dramatically, Ryan's amber colored eyes traveling down towards the anthology grasped in his hands. "A Midsummer Night's Dream." He responded, playing with the thin edge of the page with one of his rough fingertips.

"Like, you know, the Shakespeare play," he added, his fingers fumbling as he folded over the corner of his page.

"What do you think of it?" Ryan asked, pushing his sleeves up over his elbows.

Brendon shrugged, scratching his neck as Ryan blushed deeper, doing everything in his power to pull his eyes away from Brendon's collarbone.

"It's not bad." He answered, brushing his hair out of his face. "Isn't Hermia an std though? Like, I'm having trouble picturing her as anything other than vaginal warts, never mind a beautiful woman."

Ryan grinned, shaking his head. "A hernia," He corrected, "is a medical condition, but I'm almost completely positive it's un-sex related."

"Huh." Brendon remarked, sitting up a little bit as Ryan felt his heart splutter in his chest.

"Were you about to ask me something?" He asked abruptly, closing the book and sliding it off of his lap.

"No." Ryan mumbled, looking back down at his black shoes as he felt his insides twist. Brendon arched an eyebrow at him. "Well, I mean yeah, actually, yeah I did–" He faltered, fidgeting his fingers together uncomfortably.

Brendon smiled at him softly, which didn't exactly help with Ryan's inability to form a sentence.

"Spencer wanted me to go around and interview people on the team for our, um, article," He managed finally, pushing his bangs out of his eyes.

"Yeah sure, as long as a picture of me in my boxers doesn't end up on the front."

Ryan shrugged, suddenly very self-conscious of the whole situation. "No guarantees."

Brendon brushed it off, pushing his dark hair off his face as he looked back down at the white floor. "Fine. Bless the school with my half-nakedness. It's not like anybody'd be complaining."

Ryan raised his eyebrows, trying his best to ignore the fact that if Brendon kept bringing up the fact he wasn't wearing pants or a shirt, he might just implode from anxiety. Or hormones. Or both. "I beg to differ."

Brendon smirked, his teeth catching his lower lip. "Like you wouldn't do me if given the chance."

Ryan cleared his throat, taking a deep breath as he pushed the suggestion out of his mind.

"Can you just, just focus on this, please?" Ryan asked, his voice quivering as he gnawed on the inside of his cheeks.

Brendon laughed softly, clearly recognizing how suddenly nervous Ryan had become.

"I'm sorry, I have a very dry sense of humor." He grinned, looking back up at Ryan with wide, energetic eyes.

Ryan's mind buzzed as he shook his head, not fully processing everything that was happening while his eyesight dizzied as if everything were on fast forward.

"Anyways, you had questions that needed answers?" Brendon looked at him expectantly, the corners of his large lips turned upwards gently as he folded over the corner of his page.

 _Yeah_ , Ryan thought as he drummed his fingers against his thigh, _do you top or bottom?_

Ryan felt himself nod, chewing on his lower lip as he folded his hands together in his lap, Brendon's dark eyes locked with his as he fixed his hair again, giving Ryan the softest, most adorable closed mouth smile known to mankind.

"Oh. Yeah. I–just wait a second." He said, shaking his head quickly as he wet his lips, reaching into his pants pocket and pulling out his notepad with unnecessary urgency.

"So you're the, um, the captain," Ryan started, clicking his pen a few too many times as he crossed his legs and glanced back up at Brendon nervously.

"I'm aware." Brendon noted, a gentle smile slowly spreading across his face.

"Right." Ryan managed, swallowing hard as he brushed a piece of hair out of his face. "Right, anyways."

Ryan shifted his feet awkwardly, taking a deep breath as he let his fingers tap against his leg to try and release some nerves. "Who do you think has influenced you the most as a swimmer, like to get where you are?"

"Myself." Brendon responded, folding his hands together in his lap.

Ryan scoffed, his heart dropping into his stomach as he rolled his eyes. "I meant an actual person."

"Are you suggesting I'm not an actual person?" He retorted, flashing Ryan a brilliant smile as Ryan's blush deepened.

"Not what I meant."

"Because if that was what you were suggesting, you just so happen to be correct. I'm not a person, I'm legitimately a walking orgasm with great hair and an amazing wit."

He blinked a few times disbelievingly, as Brendon managed a chuckle, sliding his book off his lap.

"Alright then, not just incredibly handsome but also overly sexual and conceited; noted." Ryan said playfully, pretending to write something down as Brendon let out a shallow laugh, looking up at Ryan in a way that was so attractive it had to be illegal.

"You think I'm incredibly handsome?"

Ryan blushed hard, scratching at the back of his neck as he felt his heart skip a beat. "I also called you conceited." He pointed out, not really knowing what else to say as he took a few deep breaths, wiping his now very sweaty palms on his tight jeans as he felt the back of his throat go dry.

"But you also called me handsome."

"Next question," He mumbled embarrassedly, causing the grin on Brendon's face to widen slightly.

"What's your personal goal as a swimmer? Like, time wise." Ryan asked as he felt his cheeks continue to grow redder. Brendon looked at him, folding his large hands together as Ryan tapped his foot against the tiled floor nervously, trying not to let the fact that Brendon had fixated his eyes on his lips become a distraction.

"Well, it was to qualify for states and I did that today, actually." He mumbled, his gaze dropping back down to his feet as the smile faded faintly. Ryan scribbled down his response, biting his lip skittishly. "Congratulations," He said, giving Brendon the bravest half-smile he could manage. "You're really good, y'know."

"Thanks," Brendon mirrored his smile, but remained haunched over, pulling his legs in a little closer to his body.

Ryan looked down at him, slightly confused as he tapped his pen against the piece of paper.

Momentary silence. Ryan was positive if Brendon had been listening hard enough he could've made out the sound of his heart rate rapidly increasing speed. "So, um, when's states?" Ryan inquired, holding back his breath as he waited for a response.

"Too soon," He responded, avoiding eye contact as Ryan felt his stomach twist, the smile completely wiped from his features. "I won't be able to go."

Ryan frowned, pulling his eyebrows in together gently as Brendon kept his eyes glued to the floor. "What?" He asked, the grip around his notebook tightening unconsciously as his hazel eyes widened. "Of course you can, you just said it yourself. You qualified."

"No, like," Brendon started, his voice cracking a little bit. "I physically can't go. I injured my left shoulder a week ago."

"Seriously?" Ryan pursed his lips gently, his heart beating against his ribs as he looked Brendon up and down, trying to locate his injury. Well, maybe doing a little bit more than that, but that was besides the point.

Brendon nodded.

"I-, I thought you looked fine out there," Ryan said softly, his brain lacking to find anything else to fill the slowly growing silence.

Brendon laughed sardonically. "Not according to the doctor. Apparently this is my only meet until March. States are in February. He doesn't want me to do anything strenuous until it's healed." Brendon replied, scratching his neck before wiping a drop of water that had fallen off his hair and onto his glasses.

"But that's not fair," Ryan protested, letting his shoulders fall, "You should be going, it's just, that's just dumb." He managed, feeling himself getting gradually more flustered the longer he thought about it. Brendon shrugged.

"Like, I see you practicing every single day, working your cute little ass off but then, then–" Ryan faltered, regretting the words the second they flew off his tongue.

Brendon lifted his eyes up immediately, causing Ryan's stomach to flop. "No, I meant, I didn't that I mean," Ryan babbled, gnawing on his lower lip aggressively, his face darkening to a deep crimson.

Brendon smirked at him, his dark eyes catching the glare of the bright, white celling lamps above.

"Ryan, you know you would be a lot better at flirting if you finished your sentences."

Ryan thought he might have a heart attack and die on the spot; which considering the fact that anything he said now would most definitely embarrass him further, wasn't such a bad idea.

"Yeah well, it's not like I do this a lot." He managed as he tipped his head downwards, his fingers fidgeting together in his lap.

He could feel Brendon's eyes on him, noticing his legs were significantly weaker under his knees.

"Would you do it some more if I asked you to come with me to the party Pete's throwing this weekend? That is if dating doesn't count as a strenuous activity."

"Pete? Like Wentz?" Ryan asked dumbly, even though he was fully aware that Pete Wentz was probably the only Pete in the entire country that was actually cool enough to be referred to as Brendon's friend.

"Yeah, Pete like Wentz." Brendon confirmed, the corners of his lips flickering upwards again.

Ryan smiled in response, nodding his head. "Yeah, I'll go. Pete's fucking hot."

Brendon laughed, shaking his head as he adverted his eyes. "Hot as me?" He asked playfully, but Ryan could've sworn he heard heaviness in his voice.

"Not nearly." He responded without hesitation, his eyes catching Brendon's again.

"Good, I don't like want Pete like Wentz stealing my like, date." He mocked, brushing his fingers through his damp hair.

"So for clarification, this is a date?" Ryan asked, fighting down the uneasy feeling in his stomach.

"That's what I was aiming for, yeah." Brendon said, a gentle smile spreading across his face.

"Then a date it is."


	3. Buoyancy. Or not.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ryan is 201% screwed.

"It's not a date." Ryan insisted, crossing his arms over his chest as Spencer shoveled a forkful of spaghetti into his mouth.

"Sure it's not." Spencer countered, his silverware making a soft clash as it hit against his porcelain dish.

"It's really not." He protested, pushing a meatball around his plate. Spencer grinned, sauce stains surrounding his lips as he wiggled his eyebrows at Ryan who huffed irritatedly before stabbing the meatball he had been harassing and biting half of it off.

"He invited you to a party after calling you out on your shitty flirting abilities, sounds like a date to me."

He wiped his mouth with his dull, white napkin as Ryan glared at him, genuinely surprised that his stare wasn't enough to bore holes into his skull.

"Studying in the back of the library everyday for a class that doesn't even give tests sounds like a date to me." He said, knowing Spencer's cause sounded more probable, but pushing it anyways.

"I'm not dating Jon." He said, rolling his light blue eyes as he twisted his fork around another massive bite of pasta.

"Right, like how I'm not dating Brendon."

"Please," Spencer said, his mouth full of spaghetti as Ryan made a face.

"Chew your food, then talk." Ryan shot back, as he mashed the remains of his meatball with his fork.

"Okay mom." Spencer mumbled, swallowing his forkful of carbs. "But, like where even is this 'party?' What if it's not an actual party and Brendon's just luring you back to his cave where he'll ravage you with tentacles before stabbing you in the liver and leaving your body to decompose in the street?"

Ryan frowned, dropping his fork against his plate. "Pete's house."

Spencer smirked, licking his lips. "Pete's could be an acronym, y'know. Place of Ejaculation, Testicles, and Erotic-octopus Stabbing."

Ryan scoffed, suppressing a laugh as he took a sip of his tart, iced lemon water. "You're just jealous that I would rather let Brendon erotically pierce my liver with squid anatomy than stay at home and play Rock Band while you lament about Jon's girlfriend." He said, swirling his thin straw around his cup, the ice cubes clashing against the translucent plastic rim.

"And rightly so. I'm your best friend and he's just some guy who happens to have slightly above average hair."

"Not some guy." Ryan corrected, glowering at him from across the crimson, leathery booth.

"Oh, right. Excuse me, for I have forgotten his full title." He said, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he cleared his throat. "Sir-Capitan Brendon Boyd Urie of Mormonville USA, The love of your life. The meatball to your spaghetti. The bread to your butter. The cream to your wheat. It's not just a high school relationship that will last for a year at most and then once you've realized how drastically wrong you were, your best friend will be miles away, knowing all too well -" "Shut up! Do you ever stop talking?"

Ryan forced down his blush, picking a pice of spaghetti up in-between his forefinger and his thumb before whipping it at Spencer.

Sadly, it only made it half way across the table before latching onto the finished wooden surface like a leech.

"Classy." Spencer retorted, rolling his pale blue eyes as they glinted under the dark lighting.

"Says the man who-"

"Spencer? Ryan?"

They both looked up, Ryan immediately breaking out into a grin when he saw a tall, broad figure walking towards their table. The restaurant was dimly lit, and the sound of people chattering almost overpowered the quiet man heading towards them, but they both knew who it was instantaneously.

"Hey! What's up, Jon?" Ryan called out slyly, leaning back into the booth as Spencer frantically wiped his mouth with his cloth napkin.

He was wearing a tight, off-white dress shirt, black slacks, and a black vest with a check book tucked under his arm as he strode over to them, adjusting his name tag.

"I didn't know you worked here?" Ryan said, shooting a look at Spencer before back at Jon who hadn't broken eye contact with Spencer since he walked over.

He chuckled, his hazel eyes flickering from Ryan to Spencer and back again. "Yeah every Thursday night, 6:30 to 10 I'm forced to walk around with these chaffing, black tights while attempting to get the Frenchie at table seven whatever the hell a Trou Normand is."

Ryan chuckled softly, picking up his cold fork and poking at his spaghetti as Spencer laughed a little too enthusiastically before sending Ryan an S.O.S. look.

Jon looked back and forth between Ryan and Spencer, his dark hazel eyes flashing with shock. "Oh, did I, did I interrupt something here?" Jon asked, his tone becoming slightly uneasy as Spencer looked over at him, sudden horror freezing his expression. "Uh," He started blankly, his chapped lips parting in terror.

"Like a date?" Ryan interrupted, grimacing at Jon. "No, oh god ew no."

"Ew? I'm way out of your league." Spencer said, snapping back into reality. "But alas," He sighed with what was clearly fake sorrow, "this stud is taken by his one and only, the Juliette to his Romeo."

"I thought you dropped this, shakespeare." Ryan said, rolling his eyes in annoyance.

"Ryan got a girlfriend?" Jon questioned, a smile poking at his lips as he slid in next to Spencer while adjusting his pants, Spencer's skin turning a shade of violet. He blinked, snorting in laughter when Jon's words sunk in, a smile easing across his face.

"Sure." He grinned, lifting his eyes to Ryan's. Ryan just glared back in response.

Jon sighed, pulling his thick eyebrows together as he glanced at the two of them skeptically. "Well, don't leave me in the dark, who is she?"

"Brenda Urie." Spencer laughed, "Apparently she's a dime."

Jon's face fell almost immediately as Ryan felt his neck and ears prickle with sticky heat.

"He's not- we're not," He protested, propping his elbows up on the table as he buried his face in his hands embarrassedly.

"That's a joke right?" Jon asked Ryan, his face drawing together in confusion as Spencer shook his head no.

"Wait wait, wanna hear a joke?" Spencer asked, smirking.

"No." Ryan answered curtly, picking his head up as his eyes flashing with intolerance. Jon just stared, not knowing what to say.

"Knock knock." Spencer said anyways, his full cheeks raising slightly as his smile widened.

Ryan glared at him, folding his arms over his chest stubbornly.

"This is when you say who's there," Spencer urged, kicking his shins under the table. Ryan scowled at him, trying to ignore the fact that it actually hurt a little bit.

"Who's there?"

"Izza,"

"Izza who?" Ryan mumbled annoyed, as he pushed his bangs out of his eyes.

"Izza you in love with Brendon?"

Ryan threw his head back in frustration, covering his eyes with his long, thin fingers.

"I think he Izza in love with Brendon." Spencer jousted, elbowing Jon who's face what slowly loosing color.

"C'mon, Spence, if you're going to make bad jokes then at least have them make sense!" Ryan exclaimed exasperatedly, jolting his head forward as he gestured angrily with his hands.

"Dude, did he invite you to Pete's this weekend?" Jon asked quietly, his light brown eyes widening.

Ryan looked over at him, his heart dropping into his stomach. "Yeah, why?"

Jon shook his head, the corners of his mouth turned downwards as Spencer's chuckles slowed to a stop. "Oh," He mumbled, looking down at the table, "Oh, god, I don't really want to have to be the one to tell you this, but" He paused, Ryan taking a semi-shaky breath as he felt his heart pound aggressively against his chest.

"He's like doing Pete secretly, or was doing Pete, they kinda got into a fight like last week and well, Brendon's been going out of his way to make Pete jealous since."

Ryan stared, his throat closing together as he swallowed.

"And," He stopped again, his eyes dark with pity as they locked with Ryan's. "God, don't look at me like that," Jon managed, averting his eyes away from Ryan's. "I don't want to have to piece this together kid."

Ryan blanked, his mind buzzing as he vaguely registered his mouth dropping open.

"Look, Bren's a good person, he really is, just I don't know, kind of dumb when it come to these kinds of things." He felt his head tip, dropping into his hands as he gaped at Jon. "Don't take it too personally though, he did say you were cute the other day."

"Oh." Was all Ryan could manage as he felt his dry mouth fold into a sad smile. Spencer looked over from Jon to Ryan in anguish, his cheeks flaring up pink.

"Yeah. Well, I should get going before I get called out for flirting with the customers again." Jon said playfully, his voice still heavy as blood drummed in Ryan's ears. He felt himself nod, his palms sweaty.

"Right. Thanks though, I mean, thanks."

Jon smiled gently. "If there's anything you need to talk about kid, just ask Spencer. I'm sure he wouldn't mind giving you my number."

He nodded numbly as Jon lifted himself out of the booth, Ryan giving him a half-wave, his stomach doing somersaults.

"See you Monday Spence."

"Later Jon."

Spencer looked over at Ryan, Jon's black leather shoes making clicks against the hardwood floor as someone yelled something at him in Italian.

He kept his lips pressed in a firm line, twirling a sting of pasta around his silverware before dropping letting it clash against the plate. "You gonna eat that?" Spencer asked, nodding towards Ryan's untouched spaghetti.

"Take it. It's cold anyways." Ryan mumbled, sighing as he slid further down in his booth.

* * *

Ryan laid in bed, staring up at the shadowed celling blankly, his mind running wild with thoughts about everything that had happened the past few days. His phone felt like warm, dead weight on his chest as it hummed on speaker, breaking the silence of the dark, empty room. He took a few deep, even breaths, trying desperately to avoid noticing the sad, hollow feeling gnawing at the membrane of his stomach as he sighed, glancing over at the glowing red alarm clock on his bedside, his eyes foggily making out the numbers 12:34.

Brendon should still be awake. He didn't know whether that was a good thing or not.

"Your call has been forwarded to an automated voice message sys-," "Hello?"

Ryan felt his heart jump as he rolled to his side nervously, his hair brushing along the smooth fabric of his pillowcase. "Hey Bren," He mumbled, his large hands that were wrapped around the screen looking like a stark contrast against the blinding light illuminating from his phone.

"Ryan?"

The corners of his mouth pulled downwards as his eyes attempted to adjust to the sudden bright light.

"Hey, yeah, it's me," He responded, his voice flat as he flipped onto his back again, letting his eyes travel back up to the bare celling.

"Thought you'd never call," Brendon joked, his voice sounding staggered and butch through the phone.

"Been busy," He replied, shrugging even though he knew perfectly well that Brendon couldn't see him.

"I've missed you." Brendon said abruptly, causing Ryan's breathing to hitch in his throat. Ryan was about point out that he spoke to him two days ago, but decided to hold his tongue.

"Missed you too." Ryan said admittedly, his knees feeling incapacitated as he chewed the insides of his cheeks.

"Oh, I was supposed to tell you today, but Pete's party is tomorrow. Is it okay if I pick you up around eight?"

"Eight's cool."

He rolled onto his side again, flipping his heavy phone around in his large hands, his heart drumming against his breastplate as he pushed a piece of hair out of his eyes.

"You looked cute today," Brendon said suddenly, his voice wavering slightly.

Ryan felt himself blush, the skin on his palms starting to prickle with sweat as he struggled out an answer. "I always look cute, how dare you."

"Okay, not gonna disagree. You looked especially cute today."

Ryan furrowed his eyebrows together, trying to remember what he had worn to school. "Yeah?" He asked, feeling one fourth baited, one fourth flattered, and one half like he might puke.

"Yeah." Brendon confirmed, his voice light, like he was holding back a laugh.

"Thanks, Thank you. You too." Ryan muttered awkwardly, his mouth going dry as his eyes trailed off towards the cracked window across the room.

"How's the article coming along?" Brendon asked, a scratchy muffled sound emitting from Ryan's phone speaker as he presumably laid down.

"Honestly?" Ryan asked.

Brendon made a muffled swooshing sound, which Ryan assumed to be nodding.

"It's trash. 400 words and roughly 200 of them are Brendon and the other 200 are Urie."

Brendon laughed gently as Ryan felt his insides combust with nerves.

"Not necessarily a bad thing." Brendon chuckled as Ryan fumed over the fact that his laugh still sounded magnetic through the phone.

"Definitely a bad thing for your ego. Also, if people read a full-length novel of me glorifying Brendon Urie and his ass, it looks kind of gay on my part."

"Ryan you came out in the eighth grade."

"Someone's been keeping tabs," He joked, making a satisfied click with his tongue.

"Not me," Brendon protested, as Ryan felt his heart sink a little, "Pete. Practically in love with you for all of your sophomore year, never stopped pointing out cute things you did or how jealous of Spencer he was. It was kind of creepy and would've been excruciatingly annoying if I had't had a crush on you also."

"I'm just that sexy, huh?" Ryan asked, unable to control a smile from seeping across his face.

"Whatever floats your boat."

"Like you wouldn't do me if given the chance." Ryan threw back at him, suppressing giggles as Brendon coughed.

"Touché my friend."

Ryan hummed in response, his features plastered in a seemingly permanent smile.

"Shoulder been bothering you at all?"

"Never was in the first place." Brendon said, sighing as Ryan sniffled.

"Be careful please, I don't want you to hurt it further,"

"Ryan, I'm fine." Brendon laughed, the phone creating static noises as Ryan felt a little twinge in his stomach.

"I know, just wanted to make sure you're alright."

"Yeah," Brendon muttered, his voice thick, "thanks."

Ryan sighed rolling over to face the clock again. "Hey, it's kinda late, I think I should go to sleep now."

Brendon made a whimper sound, which sounded more like a off-tune recorder though the phone. "But you just called me." He objected as Ryan rolled his amber-colored eyes.

"Bren, I have four tests tomorrow. Y'know how they put a shit ton of pressure on you the weeks leading up to winter break."

Brendon was quiet except for a low, inconsistent hum emitting from the phone.

"C'mon, you'll get to see way too much of me tomorrow."

"How much are we talking?" Brendon asked, his voice suddenly light again.

"I don't know, from like 8 to– Bren-Brendon stop laughing. I meant time, like hours not– you perv."

Ryan grinned, Brendon's giggles pouring through the phone speaker like chimes.

"Fucking weirdo." Ryan uttered under his breath affectionately as he covered his eyes with his hands.

"Alright, see you tomorrow then? Don't forget to send me your address,"

"Of course." Ryan managed, his voice sounding way happier than he would've liked.

"Night Ry, sweet dreams."

"You too Bren. G'night."

Ryan sighed, his phone making a soft beeping noise as Brendon disconnected, causing the glow of his screen to die almost immediately and leave bright splotches of pale green and white staining his vision as he suddenly realized his heart pulsing rapidly against his chest.

 _Well_ , Ryan thought, his head sinking deeper into his pillow, _Fuck._


	4. Testing The Waters [Part I]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the rather long hiatus comes to an end:)

"You sure you still want to go? Rock Band's already set up in the basement." Spencer inquired, his voice wavering with unsure tension, "The Pizzeria down the street's open until 9 on Saturdays so it's still not too late for delivery."

Ryan shook his head, pushing his bangs out of his hazel-brown eyes before slumping down on the firm, tan, leather couch next to Spencer.

"I have to go," He answered, straightening the wrinkles in his solid black t-shirt.

Spencer frowned, brushing his tawny colored hair behind his ear as he looked over at the door on the opposite side of the small apartment. "I don't see why. You don't owe him anything."

Ryan snorted, his shoulders haunching momentarily as he let a short chortle escape from his lips, "You sound like one of those sexual assault PSA's."

Spencer rolled his eyes as he crossed his arms over his chest, turning his body to face Ryan. "I don't trust him."

"I didn't ask." Ryan remarked, a sardonic smile spreading across his face.

"What if he does end up using you as a toy in his evil scheme? Usually Jon knows what he's talking about when it comes to these things,"

Ryan smirked, "Fourteen."

Spencer frowned, pulling his eyebrows in together as he scrunched his nose up in confusion. "Fourteen what?"

"That's the Fourteenth time you've mentioned Jon in the past 20 minutes."

Spencer huffed, folding his thick arms over his chest. "You're missing the point Ryan, you're an awkward, emo loser. Popular people are as interested in you as they are in the shower scum in the boy's locker room. Why would he ask you on a real date?"

Ryan scowled, his back sinking into the couch as he raised his thin eyebrows. "Because I'm fuckin' adorable, that's why."

Spencer pretended to puke, rolling his eyes.

"Why can't you just be happy that I finally get to go on a date with the boy I've had a crush on since freshman year?"

Spencer groaned, slumping down next to Ryan on the stiff couch. "Any other circumstance, I would support it fully. But he's an asshole Ry, I don't want you to get used. It looks bad on my part."

Ryan pushed him playfully, his frown shifting into a subtle grin. "You know I'll be okay Spence." He said reassuringly as Spencer shot him a look, his pale eyes catching the light from the celling lamps. "If he does end up being an ass I'll bite his dick off halfway through blowing him."

"Ugh, please don't give him a blowjob. I'll never be able to use your toothbrush again."

"What?" Ryan asked, his face furrowing in disgust, "You use my toothbrush?"

Spencer shrugged like it was no big deal. "Only sometimes after..." He paused, his blue eyes flashing as they scanned Ryan's mortified expression, "You know, never mind." Ryan shook his head, making a mental note to burn that toothbrush ceremoniously when he got back.

"Honestly though, if he gives you any bullshit I'll come and pick you up."

Ryan felt his face fold into a half-smile as he pushed his hair out of hid face. "I'll be okay," He promised, brushing his chestnut hair out of his eyes, "I never go to parties, it'll be fun."

"Not too much fun, though, I don't want to have to be the one to ice your ass when you come back." Spencer commanded as Ryan felt himself smile.

"I don't need your blessing." Ryan responded, crossing his arms over his chest when three loud knocks echoed from the large, front door.

"Punctual." Spencer noted shifting his gaze towards the clock in the kitchen, "Eight exactly."

Ryan shooed him away as he got up and walked towards the door, anxious energy rushing through his body. He inhaled deeply, wrapping his fingers around the cold, brass doorknob before drawing it back, revealing Brendon smiling brightly at him.

"Hey," He said, his smile deepening as he looked up at him, every organ in Ryan's body melting on the spot.

"Hi." Ryan answered, looking him up and down as he dropped his hand from the door.

He was wearing tight light blue jeans, black sneakers, and an oversized navy blue hoodie with the swim team logo printed on the front in faded white that slumped down to his lower thighs. Ryan couldn't help but notice how small and innocent it made him look. The thought made him want to slice open his skull and use Brendon's sweatshirt to repeatedly whip his own brain into a pulp so he wouldn't be able to think like that again. He wasn't supposed to give Brendon the ability to walk all over him.

"You look nice." Brendon remarked, smiling up at Ryan shyly.

Well, so much for that plan.

"Thanks, you look great. Like wow, you're–"

Spencer coughed, Brendon's eyes darting over to where he was lazily sprawled out along the couch. "Are you guys going to go? Or stand there all night eye-fucking each other?" Ryan felt heat lash up into his face, his heart thudding against his chest.

He opened his mouth to speak, words failing him as he debated whether or not punching Spencer was worth the effort.

"Cool it Spence," Brendon said, his smile remaining unfazed as he flickered his eyes back to Ryan. "Ready, then?"

"To what?"

"Go?" Brendon asked, giggling as Ryan felt his blush deepen.

Of course he was asking if he wanted to go, what else? Continue eye-fucking in the doorway? Christ.

"No, I mean yeah, I am," He rushed, his blush intensifying as he adverted his gaze to the ground. Spencer groaned quietly, but loud enough for the two of them to hear.

"Alright, later Spencer!" Brendon chimed, his hand brushing across Ryan's stomach as he reached for the doorknob. Spencer grunted.

"Don't mind him, he's on his period." Ryan mumbled as Brendon laughed gently, pulling the door closed after Ryan stepped out into the hallway.

"Where'd you park?" Ryan questioned, very aware of Brendon's arm that had looped itself around Ryan's waist.

"Just outside, I couldn't find a spot in the back anywhere." Brendon rested his head on Ryan's shoulder as he synced their steps, Ryan stunned slightly by how willingly Brendon had thrown himself at him already. Not that that was an issue, or anything. "You live with Spencer?" He asked, tracing his fingers around Ryan's hip as Ryan bit down on his tongue.

"Yeah, close families." Ryan responded, debating whether he should put his arm around him or not. "Pete lives close to here?"

Brendon shook his head, his long eyelashes beating against his cheek as he blinked a few times. "If that's a problem then we can d–"

"No, no it's perfectly fine," Ryan rushed out, "the more time I get with you the better."

Brendon looked down, the small smile at the edges of his mouth seemingly disappearing as his arm dropped slightly.

Ryan felt his stomach sink as heat rose to his face, trying not to feel hurt.

"You're really sweet you know that?" Brendon said, his steps falling out of time with Ryan's. Ryan felt himself smile a little, awkwardly resting his arm on the small of Brendon's back.

"Only to select people." Ryan clarified, as Brendon frowned down at his shoes.

Brendon scoffed, "You really shouldn't think so highly of me you know."

Ryan shrugged, "I have no reason not to."

Ryan noticed as Brendon took a strong interest in his shoes again.

A part of him felt bad, because despite what Jon had said, he was actually looking forward to spending some time with Brendon; but on the other hand, if what Jon had told him had some bit of truth to it, he would take every possible opportunity to guilt him into feeling like trash for using him as a pawn in his rather biased game of chess. Kill him with kindness. Or maybe kill him with charm and terrible pick-up lines because he genuinely had a soft-spot for him and meant everything he said.

He preferred the version where he was an emotionless machine who didn't feel a stab of pain every time that Brendon looked even remotely upset.

"Do you drink?" Brendon asked promptly, catching Ryan off guard.

He shook his head as he slowly pressed small circles into Brendon's back with his thumb. "Course not."

"Even at parties?"

Ryan, folded his mouth together, shrugging while Brendon pursed his lips, looking up at him with an unreadable expression.

"Huh," Brendon said as Ryan felt his throat constrict.

 _Shit_ , He thought, pulling his eyes away from Brendon's. Did he say the wrong thing? What if Brendon didn't think he was cool enough? Sure, drinking seems like something incredibly tame for some of the kids Brendon hangs out with, but Ryan was socially awkward enough as it was, he didn't need alcohol to possibly embarrass him further.

"Does Pete have a fuseball table?" Ryan asked, suddenly very tense, hoping Brendon wouldn't take note of the abrupt subject change. Damn his terrible people skills. Brendon laughed, tightening his grip around Ryan's waist.

"Yes, he does. I'll play you when we get there if you want."

Ryan blushed, a smile easing across his face. "Only if you're willing to get your cute little ass kicked." Lies. Ryan was shit at fuseball.

Brendon smiled up at him, raising his dark eyebrows. "Twenty bucks says my cute little ass can beat yours."

"Now that's not polite, making bets on our first date. Shame on you Bren."

Brendon sighed, rolling his dark brown eyes. "Thirty?"

"No, if you win you won't even need my money." Brendon gave him a confused look, cocking his jaw to the side slightly.

Ryan felt himself smirk, pressing his lips against Brendon's ear, "Because, assuming you do somehow beat me, which you won't, I'll do you a favor and spare you a trip to the back alley and give you a blowjob myself, free of charge."

Brendon snorted, a soft pfft sliding past his lips as he shoved Ryan with his shoulder, failing to suppress a smirk from sliding across his face. "I thought you had a little more self-respect than a fuseball match, but if that's all it takes I'm certainly not complaining."

Ryan flicked his eyebrows, brushing his fingers along the heavy fabric of Brendon's sweatshirt. "You shouldn't think so highly of me."

"You haven't given me a reason not to." Brendon said almost as if on cue as he shook his head playfully, a wide smile pressed against his lips.

Ryan smiled back.

* * *

Pete's house could've belonged to a millionaire. Just by looking at the front, Ryan could already tell that it had probably enough space to house his entire apartment building, 90% of the population of Los Angeles, and possibly even a small country.

The car ride had been fascinating to say the least. It was twenty four minutes long; Ryan had counted because he wanted to know the exact time he had died at, if he so happened to get into an accident. It's not that Brendon was a terrible driver, necessarily. He just had an aptitude for doubling the speed limit and focusing on anything but the road itself. He spent the entire ride laughing at Ryan's lame passes at him, singing along to the bad pop songs on the radio, or sometimes just watching him quietly (which, for the record, totally would've been okay with Ryan if it didn't put his life at stake.)

It turns out Pete doesn't have a fuseball table; he had only maybe let the images of rewarding Brendon with blow jobs corrupt his brain. To Ryan's dismay, it was actually pool, and Ryan and Brendon both decided that they would rather awkwardly shuffle in the middle of the room and call it dancing than subject themselves to the that torture.

Well, Ryan was awkwardly shuffling.

Brendon, having downed two cups of "punch" already, was doing a bit more than shuffling.

It had taken no less than 10 minutes of edging closer to him until Brendon was practically dancing on top of him, hips knocking against his when ever he swayed, thighs pressed against each others', leaning in when he laughed so close that Ryan could feel his breath prickle the skin on the side of his neck. And well, Ryan wasn't going to lie to himself, it was downright sexy and he'd be a liar if he said he wasn't suppressing a hard on just from Brendon being that close to him. Pathetic, really.

Brendon swayed his hips, humming along to some crappy pop song that used the word baby far too many times as he brushed his fingers along Ryan's leg, his warm fingers catching against the rough fabric of his jeans. Ryan tried hard not to react, looking down at his own hands awkwardly as Brendon reached up to brush a piece of Ryan's hair behind his ear. Ryan gulped.

"I don't like this song." Brendon stated finally, his humming coming to an abrupt stop.

Ryan sucked in a deep breath. "Neither do I, it's so unoriginal. The excessive bass is ridiculous, and the lyrics are–"

"You wanna go some place quieter?" Brendon said shortly, cutting off what most likely would've been a rant so long it would put the hundred year's war to shame.

He grinned up at him, his lower lip wedged in between his teeth as he curled his fingers around Ryan's waist, swaying his hips slightly. Ryan blinked. Oh.

 _Oh_.

"Uh," He froze, his heart hammering against his chest as Brendon winked at him. Ryan felt air get caught in his throat, his mouth dry. "Ah, uh-huh, yeah," He gingerly dropped his hand to Brendon's waist, giving him what he hoped was a confident smile, but if anything, it probably looked more terrified than anything else.

He tried to focus on getting his fingers to stop trembling as Brendon inched closer, a seductive smile playing at his lips leaving Ryan trying to remember how breathing worked. _In, out_. Deep breaths, Ryan. Brendon wasn't taking deep breaths. In fact, Brendon's breathing was rather shallow. Ryan wondered what Brendon's breathing sounded like when he was getting fucked, and well, that definitely did not help the situation at hand.

Brendon brought his lips up to Ryan's ear, pressing their chest's together as he pressed his hand against Ryan's. "You sure?" He whispered, his voice breathy, "You seem kind of," He paused, guiding Ryan's hand over his ass and into his back pocket. Ryan felt himself swallow. "Hesitant."

Ryan nodded, taking a shuddery breath as he felt warmth flood his lower stomach, his cheeks burning slightly. "Yeah, I'm-I'm definitely sure."

Brendon smirked and Ryan felt his entire lower half become weak, biting harshly on his bottom lip to try and prevent himself from getting hard. "Good." Brendon purred, lifting his hand to Ryan's neck, grazing over his skin softly. Ryan forgot he was supposed to be dancing and not just staring lamely at Brendon's lips with his jaw hanging by his shoes as Brendon twisted his fingers in the hair at the nape of Ryan's neck, clearly trying (and succeeding Ryan thought) to seduce him.

Ryan placed the hand that wasn't busy on Brendon's waist, his stomach doubling over on itself in nerves as he felt himself laugh nervously, his face getting hot as his ears tingled with staticky, warm blush.

"You're cute when you're being shy." Brendon said, moving his hand past Ryan's ear and down his jawline.

"Yeah? Well, you're sexy when you're not."

Brendon's eyes light up as he smiled brightly, a slight laugh escaping his lips as he tilted his chin upwards, his gaze momentarily flickering down towards Ryan's mouth.

Ryan felt his heart clatter against his chest as he sucked in a deep breath, his tongue darting out to wet his lips briefly.

"Ryan?" Brendon half-whispered, so close Ryan could feel his breath against his chin.

"Yeah babe?" He said breathily, his eyes widening as soon as the words passed his lips. He hadn't meant to say it, it just kind of came out, _babe_. Panic washed over Ryan's stomach as he felt his insides swirl with nerves. Babe. What if Brendon thought he was pushing it? I mean they weren't even dating, it just happened. _Babe_. Purely accidental. I mean babe kind of sounds like Brendon, doesn't it? Or Bren at least. Anyone could easily mistake the two. Maybe, Brendon hadn't even noticed. What if he had and thought Ryan was being too clingy and–

His brain muted itself as Brendon's soft, ample lips brushed against his, Brendon fisting the collar of his shirt while he urged his lips open slowly. Ryan felt his stomach flop with a mix of terror and accomplishment as he shifted his lips against Brendon's, his breathing hitched in his throat.

Brendon leaned into him, relaxing against Ryan's touch. His lower lip was moist where he had been biting on it, causing Ryan's crotch to stiffen as Brendon pushed his leg in between Ryan's, sliding his warm, wet tongue over Ryan's bottom lip. Ryan shuddered.

He lowered his hand to Brendon's curvy hips, tilting his head to the side to get a better angle, their movements gentle as Ryan lowered his jaw, allowing Brendon's tongue to push itself into his mouth, his entire body tingling with excitement as their lips moved against each others' slowly.

Babe was okay, then.

Brendon pulled back, their lips parting with a wet pop as he took a deep breath, Ryan's knees weakening as Brendon not-so-discreetly let his eyes roam over his body before tilting his head upwards again, Ryan's head spinning as if everything were happening in slow motion.

"Ryan! Dude!" Ryan jumped, immediately felt violated as a pair of toned arms flew around his shoulders, the drink they were holding ending up covering the front of Ryan's shirt as they swung loosely, accompanied by drunken laughter.

He opened his mouth to yell, eyes wide with alarm when the boy released him, rounding Ryan with a wide, easy grin on his face, his blonde hair a tangled mess around his cheeks.

"Brendon my man," He laughed, giving Brendon a sloppy, too-long hug as Brendon laughed shortly, his eyes flashing as he looked over to Ryan.

"Hey Ethan." Brendon said through his fake smile, letting him go which caused him to stumble slightly.

"This party's iiiiiiiiinsane, Pete invited a ton of college kids, can you believe?"

Ryan and Brendon exchanged looks before Brendon responded, "Yeah, it's pretty cool."

"Punch?" He offered Ryan his now empty solo cup, and Ryan shook his head. "Suit yourself," Ethan continued, his head drooping forwards. "Anyways, I was sent to ask Brendon," Pause. Ryan cowered internally. "If you wanted to dance with my new _college_ friend Shane." He finished, wiggling his eyebrows before nodding slowly towards a boy in a blue shirt across the room. Ryan shot him a glare and gripped Brendon tighter.

"Oh." Brendon said, shuffling closer to Ryan if that was even possible. "I mean, um, I th–"

Ryan had just started to make out with Brendon Urie. _The_ Brendon _motherfucking_ Urie that he had dreamed of making out with since freshman year. He didn't have time for this bullshit.

"He's not interested," He said abruptly, starting to lean in to kiss Brendon but was quickly cut off a loud "whoaaaa."

"I'm totally in the middle of something." Ethan stated and Ryan fought the urge to punch the nearest inanimate object.

"Yeah, just a little." Ryan said through gritted teeth and Brendon shot him a look.

He was biting on his lower lip, his mouth parted just slightly as Ethan babbled on, his face drawn as if he were trying to figure out how to remain polite in this situation.

"I mean Brendon I knew, but like, Ryan man I had no idea-you were, uh." He frowned like he was trying to remember something. "I guess I shoulda known. I mean, no offense or anything, but you are a feminine bro."

"It's fine." Ryan deadpanned, turning to kiss Brendon again, but was interrupted by Brendon this time, an apologetic smile stretched across his lips.

"Ethan you can hang out with us for a while, if you like."

Ryan shot him a bewildered look, grabbing Brendon's ass with the hand that was in his pocket as a warning. Brendon just smiled.

"No! A man can see wanted when he's not." Ethan garbled drunkenly, not making much sense before waving to them. "See you on the flip side!" he shouted, wandering off into the crowd.

They barely had a second to breathe before Brendon turned his chin, their lips pressing together with urgency that wasn't there before as Ryan put a steady hand on Brendon's back, pushing them closer together as Brendon broke the kiss, laughing against his lips softly. "Someone's pushy." He mumbled through his laughter as Ryan hummed a response, pushing their lips together again.

Brendon smiled as he kissed him, their wet lips shifting against each other's as Ryan felt his heart rate start to increase, pressure flowing through his half-hard dick as he fisted Brendon's sweatshirt. Brendon pulled away again and Ryan groaned, dropping his forehead against Brendon's who let out a short laugh, and _great_. Glad he thought that Ryan's sexual frustration was funny because Ryan sure as hell didn't.

"Your shirt." Brendon said, his glossy brown eyes staring into Ryan's intently. "It has punch all over it."

Ryan sighed.

"Fine." He mumbled, pulling his shirt off and discarding it to the floor in one swift motion. "Not like we need it anyways."

He leaned in, closing his eyes as he wrapped his arms around Brendon's waist. Brendon dodged his lips, placing a soft kiss on his cheek. "I'm not gonna let you walk around shirtless."

Ryan huffed, too turned on for games at this point.

His soft, brown eyes widened in empathy as he looked up, placing a gentle kiss on Ryan's jaw before he started tugging on the bottom of his bulky hoodie.

He lifted it up over his head, exposing a slightly rumpled, off-white t-shirt underneath, Ryan's eyes catching on the small strip of skin at Brendon's waistline before he thrust it into Ryan's arms. "Wear this instead."

"Thanks babe." Ryan mumbled, sliding it on over his head. Sure it didn't quite feel natural yet, but if it got him the reaction he did last time, he would gladly run around in circles all day calling Brendon babe every chance he got.

Ryan's gaze drifted down to where Brendon was sucking on his lower lip, a warm feeling erupting in his core at the sight. Fuck. He leaned in again as Brendon wrapped his long fingers around Ryan's hips, smiling softly before connecting their lips again and Ryan could practically hear the fireworks crackling above his head, cheesy as it was.

Someone cleared their throat.

Ryan swore that God had decided that now was the time to pay him back for endlessly teasing Spencer about Jon. Horrible timing, if Ryan did say so himself.

Ryan vouched to ignore whoever was trying to pull him away from possibly the most eventful episode of all four seasons of his high school experience, trying to deepen the kiss to no avail.

Brendon pulled back yet again, a frustrated but polite smile casted against his face.

Ryan had decided that, in this moment exactly, he did not want to stop kissing Brendon. No matter which pretentious asshole was trying to talk to him.

He didn't bother taking a step back, pressing his rough lips against Brendon's forcefully as he ran his hands down his spine to keep him from pulling away.

"Hey guys." The voice persisted and _seriously_ , could this guy not take a hint?

Brendon practically had to shove Ryan off of him, suppressing a smile from emerging along the edges of his mouth.

Ryan looked up, his hazel eyes murderous, refusing to remove his grip on the boy in front of him.

Pete grinned at them, his black hair strewn across his face tastefully as he swirled his drink around in his hand. "Having fun?"

Brendon beamed at him in response, nodding feverishly as Ryan ducked his head slightly, resisting the urge to shove his tongue down Brendon's throat just to spite him.

"Yeah, we were." Ryan said venomously, kissing the side of Brendon's neck almost as if to say 'mine.'

Pete shot him an unimpressed look and he did it again, Brendon squeezing his hip slightly tighter.

"Well then," Pete said raising a skeptical eyebrow, "I just wanted to tell Brendon that I need to talk to you and I'll be upstairs if you get a chance."

His face was perfectly sincere, but his tone was one that sent a little shiver down Ryan's back.

Ryan kissed Brendon's neck a third time. Brendon and Pete held eye-contact a little bit longer than Ryan would've liked before Pete smiled darkly, turning on his heel and walking in the direction he had presumably come from.

Brendon stared at him tight lipped as Pete was instantaneously swarmed by a group of girls, giggling when he approached. He cocked his head to the side and shot them a devious smirk before making his way upstairs, a girl clinging to either arm.

Ryan didn't need Pete Wentz and his dumb, charming smile and his tactics trying to make Brendon jealous, and as far as Ryan was concerned, Brendon didn't need him either. Fuck him.

Ryan kissed Brendon's neck a fourth time, a fifth time, and a sixth, nibbling on Brendon's exposed flesh slightly, tracing his lips under his adam's apple until Brendon let out a soft moan, fingers digging into his hip firmly. Ryan shifted his angle, sucking gently on a soft patch of skin under Brendon's jaw before slowly grazing his teeth across it. Brendon shivered and Ryan continued sucking on it slowly, hoping it would leave a mark dark enough for Pete to see. "Babe," Brendon said, his voice low as Ryan parted his lips from Brendon's skin, looking up at him intently. Ryan gave him a lopsided grin as Brendon's soft fingers swiftly brushed a piece of Ryan's hair out of his face before pressing his mouth against his sloppily, his tongue pushing itself past Ryan's saliva-coated lips, and yeah.

Ryan could definitely get used to this.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter literally took me three months to write because I had the idea! and then lost motivation. And then got it back! and went on vacation. But the important thing is that it's done now, and thank god because I am sick of looking at it. I apologize greatly for any one who was waiting for this fic, but now that I'm over my little writer's block I should be back to updating as regularly as I was before, because that is totally something I used to do. *uncomfortable cough* Anyways, part two of this chapter is getting beta'd so that should be posted tomorrow. Hope you all enjoy:)


	5. Testing The Waters [Part II]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ryan is fucked. No, I mean literally.

Ryan could barely think straight, the small gasps and whines escaping from Brendon's lips shooting straight through his body as he wove his hands through Brendon's hair, their mouths pressing against each others' vigorously.

Roughly twenty more minutes of clumsy making out and listening to Brendon occasionally breathe the word babe in a turned on, hormonal voice, Ryan could in fact say that he was getting used to it and was enjoying it quite throughly.

Ryan felt his own breathing pattern stutter, short, quiet, breathy moans emitting from the back of his throat, his heart pumping loudly in his ears. Brendon pulled away momentarily, his shiny, red lips swollen and coated in saliva as he mouthed the word bathroom shakily, his hands still gripping Ryan's hips forcefully as Ryan nodded feverishly in agreement. "Ye-Yeah, right. Okay. Bathr-" His words were cut off almost immediately by Brendon's warm, moist lips smacking against his again as Brendon wrapped his hands around the collar of Ryan's t-shirt, practically dragging him towards the bathroom door with no objection on Ryan's part.

People brushed past them as they made their way through, Ryan barely comprehending someone catcalling at them, unable to focus on anything but Brendon, Brendon's lips. Soft lips. So soft, addictive, glistening lips.

They shuffled across the room, stumbling, their steps rushed until they reached the bathroom, Brendon's grip having moved down towards Ryan's waist as they ungracefully moved their mouths half in sync, Ryan's entire body feeling on edge. Brendon's hand reached for the doorknob, Ryan not feeling the need to stop kissing him as he twisted at it frantically, desperate to get inside.

"Locked." Brendon muttered, his voice thick with concupiscence as Ryan pushed him up against the wall by the door, sucking on the corners of Brendon's plump lips as he slid his fingers along his neck tenderly.

"Huh?" He asked, his eyes locking with Brendon's as he pulled away, his hands stroking the skin beneath his jawline. God was he beautiful.

"The, uh the bathroom door," Brendon stuttered out, his glossy eyes darting back down towards Ryan's lips, "it's locked."

Ryan complied, kissing him softer.

"It's okay we can, fuck no I can't wait, I," He stumbled over his words as Brendon's hands traveled up his torso and over his shoulders.

"There's another bathroom upstairs," Brendon suggested, his voice heavy as he traced his fingers back down along the outline of Ryan's ribs. Ryan nodded in agreement, still partially in shock that this was actually going to happen.

"We need, like lube and, and condoms," Ryan babbled, noticing Brendon's eyes widening at the suggestion as he shook his head yes rapidly.

Ryan kissed him hard, Brendon's touch gravitating towards his hips again as Ryan let out a low, aroused moan, pushing his body against Brendon's who's breathing hitched in appreciation.

"Pete," He breathed, his fingers fisting Ryan's shirt, "He keeps them under his,– Ryan," Brendon managed helplessly, taking staggered breaths as Ryan started to grind his hips into Brendon's, his hands untangling themselves from his silky, black hair and grazing his back before gripping his ass firmly. "Under his–holy, holy shit."

Ryan's hand shifted along his tight pants to his crotch, brushing his fingers up against the outline of Brendon's hard penis, his body heat springing through the rough fabric of his jeans. Brendon groaned loudly, the noise going straight to Ryan's dick as he felt himself pant, his mouth ramming against Brendon's sloppily as he rubbed his crotch faster, Brendon's breathing mixing with whimpers of 'please' which twisted knots of pleasure in Ryan's stomach.

He pulled his mouth back, allowing Brendon to talk as his gaze landed on Brendon's wide, pleading eyes, fighting the urge to strip him down right then and there.

"Under his bed." Brendon uttered under a shaky, sensual breath, his eyelids fluttering half shut as he arched into Ryan's touch.

"Let's go get them," Ryan rushed out, his voice uneven as he pulled his hand away, Brendon whining in protest, "like, right now."

Brendon took a moment, their eyes meeting again as he nodded, want streaming through Ryan's veins.

Ryan placed another quick kiss on his lips, unable to resist the urge as he laced their fingers together, Brendon shuddering as Ryan pushed off of him, leading him towards the staircase. They sprinted up the flight of stairs, bumping into a number of confused people before pushing themselves through the line of horny couples outside of the bedroom door, all waiting desperately with pathetically turned on faces. Suckers.

They stopped outside the door of what Ryan assumed was Pete's room, Brendon's hands finding the nape of Ryan's neck as he looked up at him adoringly. "There's a bathroom in the master bedroom, which I doubt anyone knows about," he whispered seductively, chills coursing down Ryan's spine, "I'll meet you in there with the- the stuff." He finished, hopping onto his tiptoes and placing a quick peck on Ryan's lips. Ryan held him close for a second longer, letting their breaths mingle before Brendon turned towards the door and knocked loudly.

"Pete, it's Brendon open up." Ryan watched, a little twinge of jealousy hitting his stomach as Pete opened the door, smiling shamelessly even though his boxers were pulled down to his ankles.

"Hey Bren–" Ryan kept his eyes glued to Brendon's ass for a second longer as he pushed Pete out of the way and disappeared into his room, sprinting for the bed as Pete stared in confusion. "Brendon you can't just take–" Pete began, his voice anguished as the door slammed shut, Ryan turning on his heel and pushing past people in the hallway, headed for the bedroom opposite Pete's. He twisted the handle and, to his surprise, found it to be unlocked, shoving it with unnecessary force as it swung open, revealing a redhead sucking off some guy Ryan had seen at the swim meet. A muffled groan emitted from the boy as Ryan avoided eye contact before shutting the door behind him forcefully. He paced over towards what he assumed was the bathroom, flinging the door open and shutting it almost immediately, before leaning against the light blue colored wall and taking a breath.

He was about to have sex with Brendon Urie.

Any thoughts he had about how he was going to regret his entire existence and achieving nothing while in high school had dissipated, because in Ryan's eyes, this was monumental.

His cock was still firmly outlined in his tight pants, his breathing irregular and sharp as he tried not to imagine Brendon, the taut muscles on his ass clenched as–

The door knocked open revealing a winded Brendon, his hair an absolute mess as he stormed in, his clothes ruffled. He locked the door behind him, his eyes sweeping over Ryan, the container of lube and condom dangling in his fingers loosely. Ryan took a deep breath. He was stunning.

They stared at each other, breathing heavily for a minute before kicking into action, their lips colliding with a wet smack. "Fuck Brendon," Ryan mumbled, his hands fumbling as they slid under the band of his boxers as Brendon tried to help him, unzipping his fly and wriggling his tight jeans down to his ankles as Ryan felt himself harden, his dick throbbing at the sight.

Brendon moaned, mumbling something incoherent as Ryan tugged at his shirt impatiently before Brendon took over, pulling it off hastily to reveal his smooth, tan chest and Ryan had to resist every urge to trace his tongue along each of his muscles.

Ryan did the same, Brendon's eyes enlarging as they landed on his hipbones, his hands reaching out and tenderly sliding themselves over his abdomen, the rough skin on Brendon's fingertips notably warmer than Ryan's. Brendon took a deep breath as he shifted his eyes downwards, unbuttoning Ryan's tight jeans and running his hand over his crotch erotically, warmth pooling in Ryan's stomach as he let out a moan, shuddering involuntarily. He pulled down his jeans and boxers, struggling to keep focus as Brendon slid his underwear off, Ryan's head spinning as his eyes landed on Brendon's flushed cock, nearly choking for air. Fuck.

Brendon moved closer, his dark eyelashes pressed against the skin beneath his brows as he chewed on his lower lip, his hand reaching out and stroking Ryan's cock delicately, pleasure erupting through Ryan's stomach as he let out moan which was quickly cut off by Brendon pressing his lips against his. "Lube." Ryan said assertively, trying to prevent his voice from shaking as Brendon looked up at him, his tongue darting over his lips.

Brendon's hands fumbled as he slid the lube into Ryan's palm before he submissively reclined on the ground, looking up at Ryan with shining eyes.

"Fuck," Ryan felt himself growl as he coated his fingers in the cold lube, bending over Brendon who spread his long, muscular legs, Ryan feeling himself dizzying as he rested his hand on Brendon's ass, his pale skin ridiculously soft to Ryan's touch and fuck that was turning him on way more than he cared to admit. Ryan dragged his finger over Brendon's hole, encircling his entrance as Brendon arched his back and holy fuck that was _Brendon Urie_ moaning and repeating his name and Brendon _Motherfucking_ Urie who's ass was very, very willing to be fucked, and shit Ryan suddenly realized he had no clue _how_ to fuck it. I mean, sure he'd done this before, but it's Brendon _Fucking_ Urie. What if he messed this up? Then Brendon wouldn't ever talk to him again and any progress he thought he had made since age fourteen would evaporate into little Brendon-shaped bits. Fuck fuck fuck. What the fuck was he doing?

Brendon moaned, reminding him that he really should stop thinking and focus on the naked boy in front of him and right, okay. Brendon was right. Of course he was. He knew how to do this. He took a deep breath, sliding a finger in gently.

Brendon's muscles constricted around his hand, his breathing rapidly changing pace as he moaned, Ryan's dick throbbing with pressure as he pushed in further, Brendon's face twisting as a slur of swears escaped his mouth. Brendon's skin felt indescribably hot as he ran his fingers down the inside of his thigh, pushing in deeper as Brendon bit his lip groaning intensely.

Ryan bent over him, placing a few light kisses on the flesh just above Brendon's ass as he started to create a steady rhythm before inserting his second finger, much to Brendon's agreement. Ryan's head was spinning, still not completely comprehending that his fingers were inside of Brendon Urie who was on his hands and knees for him, letting out a moan every two seconds. The thought sent a shiver down Ryan's back. He was pulled out of his thoughts by Brendon uttering his name in a voice that sounded so turned on it had to be illegal, bending his back towards the grounds.

"My god Brendon," Ryan managed, letting his eyes roam all over Brendon's body. His skin was flushed pink, the muscles of his arms tight as he propped himself up on his elbows, his head dropped in-between his arms like he was about to lose it. Ryan's cock ached in protest as his eyes passed over Brendon's hard on, his breathing heavy as he rocked back against Ryan's hand forcefully, whimpers of Ryan's name sliding off his lips helplessly, and even though he had never found it to be particularly attractive coming from anyone else, when Brendon said it it sounded like the most beautiful thing in the world.

"Are you, can you take three?" Ryan asked, his mind foggy. Brendon slurred something that sounded enough like a yes for Ryan's heart to preform a little tap routine in his chest.

Tentatively, Ryan pushed in a third, fingers trembling slightly as he felt himself suddenly getting really nervous, his stomach turning in anxiety.

Brendon let out a gasp and Ryan slowed down his rhythm, afraid of hurting him.

Brendon wriggled, his hips slowly regaining speed as he let out a few grunts, adjusting to the sudden addition. Ryan kissed his lower back, trying to loosen his rigid fingers before pushing them in slightly harder, Brendon pushing back against them slowly. "You okay?"

Brendon let out a sigh, nodding his head vigorously as Ryan bit down on his lip, starting to speed up the rhythm, his eyes fixing on Brendon's erection. "Just um," Ryan started awkwardly, twisting his fingers slightly which made Brendon groan into his arm, "tell me if I hurt you, alright?"

Brendon scoffed, rocking his hips against Ryan's fingers. "Does it sound like you're hurting me?" Brendon managed breathily, his voice rough with impatience.

Ryan laughed uneasily, noticing the tiled floor was starting to hurt his knees and wondered how uncomfortable Brendon was. Maybe he could flip Brendon around and watch his face as he was getting fucked, his lips puffy, dark eyes extraordinarily wanton. Ryan decided he would like that quite a bit. "Right, sorry."

Sweat was glistening on the back of Brendon's neck and rolling down the defined muscles on his shoulders, his dark hair slightly dampened where it thinned at his neck, his boner pressing against the flesh of his stomach as chest fell and rose irregularly. He was letting out soft grunts, his soft bottom lip wet with saliva as he permitted short, hot breaths slip out of his lungs.

For the umpteenth time since Brendon had shown up at his door, Ryan forgot how to breathe.

Brendon suddenly let out a sharp gasp, slamming his fist against the floor causing Ryan to jump. "Fuck, Ryan."

"Shit Brendon, fuck, are you okay?" Ryan panicked, his stomach dropping.

Brendon moaned in response, pushing himself towards Ryan's hand assertively. "Just, again," Brendon babbled, his eyes squeezed shut as he shook his head.

Ryan, not being in any position to object, hesitantly pushed his fingers back in, causing Brendon to erupt in moans when he realized–

"Ohmygod, fuck Brendon," Ryan managed, gently massaging his finger over Brendon's prostate as Brendon clamped his teeth down on his lip, impotent moans flying out of his throat.

Ryan scissored him clumsily, placing soft kisses at Brendon's waistline, his fingers trembling as he placed a steadying hand on Brendon's shoulder. "You're so pretty like this," He mumbled, rubbing his fingers over Brendon's prostate repetitively, Brendon tensing under his touch.

He sighed, his lips parting again as he gasped, moaning Ryan's name. "Fuck pretty, you're fucking beautiful."

Brendon smiled, his hair dangling in front of his eyes. "Shut up and fuck me already."

Already? Shit. Ryan wasn't ready. Ryan was actually the opposite of ready. _Un-_ ready.

He laughed, kissing his back before slowly pulling his fingers out, letting his un-lubricated hand travel over Brendon's sweat-stained skin. "Turn over?" Ryan asked breathily, his heart pumping so loudly he could barely hear anything over it.

Brendon repositioned himself, sliding so he was on his back, his trembling hands running over Ryan's shoulders lovingly before he placed a sloppy kiss on his mouth. So not ready.

Ryan took a few staggered breaths, applying lube over the tip of his dick before climbing over Brendon, guiding his hard-on toward's his hole, the sensitive skin at the head of his penis brushing against his entrance hesitantly.

"Ryan," Brendon said suddenly, their eyes locking as Brendon ran his tongue along his lower lip. Ryan felt himself reduce slightly more to a nervous wreck than he was before.

"You're fucking beautiful."

Ready or not, sex was something Ryan had found he would never turn down. Especially not with boys who looked, and felt, how Brendon did in this position. Fuck unready.

Ryan felt a gasp escape from his chest as he pushed in slowly, his breathing intensifying as Brendon's muscles clenched around his dick, his heart rate increasing dramatically. "Jesus fuck," He moaned, his head dizzying at the sudden tightness as Brendon squeaked uncontrollably, Ryan's cock twitching which caused Brendon to moan louder as Ryan shivered in arousal. He closed his eyes, his lips clashing with Brendon's for a moment before he pulled back, steadying himself on the ground with one hand, his other squeezing Brendon's shoulder tightly.

Ryan thrusted, Brendon's hips buckling as he let out a weak breath, his soft, wet lips tracing patterns along Ryan's neck, his warm tongue brushing up against his skin every so often, causing an extra burst of pleasure to jolt through his body. Brendon's hands were stationed on Ryan's bare back, his chewed fingernails digging into his flesh as Ryan pushed faster, his dick aching he was so hard as he felt his chest inflate against Brendon's.

"Ryan," Brendon groaned, his voice rough as his hot breaths became more rapid, sticking to Ryan's skin as his teeth grazed his chest, shivers coursing through his body again. "Fuck, harder christ," Brendon pleaded, his voice deep with want, but tender and raw at the same time.

Ryan felt his head start to feel light as he complied, Brendon's moans getting more heated as the kisses on Ryan's chest turned into nips, sharp bursts of pleasurable pain shooting into his dick as he bit down on his lower lip. Sweat started to form in the increasingly warm patches where their skin rubbed together, Brendon pushing himself at Ryan forcefully as Ryan's grip on Brendon tightened, insuring bruising.

He whined in pleasure, his mouth mumbling a slew of "Fuck, my god, shit, holy fuck," in between bites against Ryan's skin, whispered moans sliding off his lips seemingly involuntarily. Ryan felt his muscles tense, heat building up inside of him as he increased speed, feeling Brendon's dick harden on his stomach as he let out a dirty groan, surprised at how turned on he sounded. His stomach twisted itself in knots as he pulled his hand off of Brendon's shoulder, slowly dragging his trembling fingers across Brendon's chest and stomach, not missing a beat as he rubbed his thumb over the soft, flushed skin on the head of Brendon's cock, wiping the drop of precome over his slit gently. Brendon responded with a series of erotic whimpers, his cursing intensifying as Ryan pushed deeper into him, curling his hand around Brendon's dick before tilting his head towards his ear, his breathing heavy with arousal, "You like that?" Brendon's eyes fluttered half open, his mouth parted as he stopped sucking on Ryan's skin, breathing unceremoniously.

"Ye–," He swallowed, a shallow breath breaking his words, "Yeah, fu–fuck." He whispered, his head sinking backwards as Ryan raced his hand up and down Brendon's stiff cock, matching the rhythm he had created with his hips. Ryan leaned down, purposefully moaning in Brendon's ear, his hand tight around Brendon's dick, the friction between their bodies forcing him to shudder. "Ryan," Brendon groaned, his fingernails clawing at Ryan's skin, "you sound, I-I can't, when you. Fucking," He smiled greedily, drawing back slowly before pushing in harder, a soft, guttural sound passing by his lips as Brendon pushed back into him, swears trailing out of his beautiful, saliva covered mouth.

Ryan kissed him sloppily, hastily brushing his tongue against Brendon's before pulling back, the pleasure around his dick seeping through his entire body with every thrust.

"Ry, Ryan, I'm gonna, if you keep,"

"Right," He managed, his voice slurred with euphoria as he looked down, dazed as removed his hand from Brendon's penis, slowly dragging his fingers down Brendon balls and towards his inner thighs. He pulled out slightly before slamming back in again, when Brendon suddenly inhaled sharply, his muscles tensing around Ryan's cock and Oh.

Ryan saw spots.

He barely managed to make out Brendon garbling out a muddle of "Fuck, Ryan," "Right there," "God, please, fuck" and other vulgarities that turned Ryan on so much he felt himself start to loose consciousness, or maybe just control.

Ryan complied, trying to be as precise as possible in his mental state as he thrusted back in, earning him an especially loud moan from Brendon and holy fuck. Ryan wondered if Brendon was as far gone as he was.

He adjusted himself, instead of pulling back, shifting his hips ever so slightly, so, if he was doing it right, would rub his dick against Brendon's prostate and–

Brendon squirmed, pushing himself against Ryan as he let out short, hot breaths, his words sounding more like sporadic moans as Ryan shifted against him, his own breathing cut off by a dirty, sensual moan, letting his head lull back on his shoulders. Shit. Fuck. Shit.

"Ryan, my god, my, fuck, Ryan, _Ryan_ ," Brendon spluttered, his fingers digging into Ryan's skin. "That's, so, so good, I'm gonna, you're,"

Ryan assumed he was doing it right.

Ryan moved his hands back up to around Brendon's leaking cock, matching the rhythm again, Brendon's dick twitching against Ryan's skin, which was turning on Ryan even more than humanly possible.

"Aggh," Brendon whined as Ryan pulled back and thrusted hard again, sloppier this time, but still somehow accurate as he kissed the base of Brendon's neck, a wave of bliss washing over his body as Brendon's salty sweat clung to his lips. Brendon jerked as Ryan started to rush, stroking Brendon faster to match their increasing speed. He felt himself building up as Brendon's muscles tightened slightly around Ryan's cock, his heart pumping blood past his ears vigorously. "Ryan, I'm gonna co–"

Brendon's sentence was ended abruptly by a spasm of sexy, erotic moans flying from Brendon's throat as Ryan felt Brendon clamp around his dick tight, swirls of pleasure flowing through Ryan's body as warm come hit Ryan's stomach and chest, Brendon's mouth hanging open. Ryan came hard as he felt himself slip into some sort of pleasure-enduced coma, making some incoherent noise as he rode through his own orgasm, slurs of red, white and light shades of purple staining his vision. He attempted to focus on Brendon, a blur of heavy breathing, sweaty skin, swollen, parted lips. Ryan thought he was beautiful. His entire body felt tingly, shaking as he felt his breathing stop all together, warmth spreading throughout his skin as he finished, immensely satisfied.

He flopped down onto Brendon's chest, closing his eyes as he tried to get his breath back, burying his face in the bare skin on his shoulder.

Brendon sighed contently, releasing his bruising grip on Ryan's hipbones before moving his hands up to his lower back, kissing the top of his head softly.

"I told you you wouldn't be able to keep your hands off me." Brendon mumbled and Ryan felt himself let out a tired laugh, pulling out of Brendon as gently as he could.

Brendon winced despite Ryan's efforts, letting out a small gasp. Ryan hummed an apology, tilting his head upwards and kissing the soft skin directly under Brendon's ear sleepily, his eyelids drooping. Brendon lifted his hand to Ryan's hair, pushing through his slightly sweaty locks lovingly as he inhaled, drawing circles on Ryan's back with the other. Ryan smiled against him softly. He was happy. Well, tired, and in post-coital bliss, but he liked to think that most of his happiness came solely from being with Brendon.

Ryan kissed him before yawning and dropping his head against Brendon's chest again.

"Someone's sleepy." Brendon commented, chucking to himself.

Ryan felt himself murmur "Am not," against Brendon's sweaty skin, nuzzling into his bare chest.

"Warm shower and then we rejoin civilization, okay?" Brendon asked, starting to get up, pulling Ryan with him. Ryan started to make a noise of protest, allowing Brendon to pick him up before giving him a heavy-eyed glare, earning him a giggle from Brendon.

"Fine as long as there's cuddling and naps involved." Ryan mumbled, pulling Brendon into his body for another brief moment before touching a kiss to his lips. They were still raw.

Brendon started the shower and they got in, the warm water rinsing the dried come off their bodies as Ryan stretched, leaning his head on Brendon's shoulder and taking a five second nap before Brendon got him up to shampoo his hair. Ryan sighed, sliding his arms under Brendon's and resting his head in the crook of his neck, kissing his exposed skin softly. The water was nice. Brendon's hands tangled in his hair were nice. Brendon sang to Ryan a little bit in the shower which was nice too. Ryan was happy.

Feeling slightly more refreshed they got out and dried off, Ryan found the strength to get dressed again, a content feeling keeping him in his warm after-sex glow.

"Your hair looks cute curly, you should wear it natural more often." Brendon said. Ryan kissed him softly.

He pulled on his jeans and Brendon's hoodie, noticing that it smelt like him, with a hint of chlorine. For once, the smell didn't bother him. Instead, it filed him with a fuzzy warm sensation that spread to his toes. He yawned.

"Let's find a couch." Brendon said, giving him a sweet peck on the chin before wrapping his arm around his waist.

Ryan let his head droop against Brendon's, planting a kiss in his hair. "Mmmm." He mumbled, kissing him again. "Let's."

Brendon managed to lead Ryan down the stairs, despite the fact that both of them were wobbly zombies, and pulled him into Pete's massive lounge where Pete himself and a few couples were snuggled up on wide couches, watching titanic.

Well, Pete wasn't watching the movie as much as shooting Ryan daggers from across the room, but the enticing idea of a comfy couch with soft pillows and his arms wrapped around Brendon's curvy little waist, his face buried in damp, sweet-smelling, dark brown hair made Ryan too tired to care.

He pulled Brendon onto an abandoned couch, tugging at his arms as he implored Brendon to cuddle with him, despite his slight protests that it was too much PDA. Ryan pouted, Brendon giving him a slightly despondent frown until some random girl pointed out that they were openly making out earlier and Brendon gave in, Ryan pinning him down on the couch and sprinkling kisses all over his neck before he could change his mind.

Brendon rolled onto his side, his back pressing against Ryan's chest as Ryan yawned, smiling into his skin happily before placing a final kiss on the back of his neck.

Brendon laughed slightly pulling Ryan's arm over his shoulder before letting his head tip back against his chest. Ryan smiled, wriggling upwards as he adjusted the pillow under his head, wrapping his other arm around Brendon's stomach protectively before shooting Pete a sleepy glare. Pete stared back. Ryan kissed the patch of soft skin behind Brendon's ear and Brendon hummed contently, cuddling closer to him, his cute, little ass fitting perfectly into the arc of Ryan's body. His hair smelt like lavender shampoo. He kissed him again.

"Fucking soft." Brendon mumbled, lacing his fingers together with Ryan's.

"That's not what you said earlier."

Brendon let out a snort as Ryan held him closer, smiling into his hair. "Go to sleep you perv."

"You're the perv." Ryan argued, feeling himself slowly start to loose the energy to speak as he kissed the top of Brendon's head.

"You guys are such a cute couple." Someone commented as Ryan blinked, trying to fight back the blush and waiting for the inevitable "Oh no, it's not like that," or the awkward laugh and then "We're not an official couple, I'm just using him to make my ex-whatever jealous." remark to come from Brendon, but it didn't.

He shrugged back into Ryan's arms, giving his hand a tight squeeze and Ryan couldn't control the smile from spreading across his lips. He closed his eyes, letting himself drift off, Brendon's warm body pressed against his, Ryan's nose and lips buried in Brendon's tangle of hair. He smelt nice. Chlorine and lavender.

Brendon.

* * *

Ryan's eyes fluttered open, Brendon's lips less than an inch away from his face, his warm, strong hands shaking Ryan's shoulders. "Hi there sleeping beauty." Brendon laughed, kissing his nose gently. "The movie just ended and everyone's going swimming, you should join us."

Ryan made a sleepy noise which didn't lean towards yes or no. It was a 'why did you wake me up for this?' kind of sound.

He closed his eyes.

"Ryaaaaaaan." Brendon groaned, pulling at his arms.

Ryan felt himself wake up slightly, stifling a yawn. "Mmmmm,"

"Swim with meeeee."

"Don't have a bathing suit." He mumbled, letting his curls fall into his face.

"Borrow one of mine." Not Brendon's voice. Ryan opened his eyes to find Pete hovering over Brendon's shoulder, black hair flopped over one of his dark eyes, staring at him with an expression that made Ryan feel as though Pete really wouldn't mind if he continued to nap on his couch instead of joining them.

Ryan groaned.

Brendon took his hands off Ryan's shoulders, frowning slightly.

"You swim every other day of the year, why can't we just sleep now?"

Brendon opened his mouth to speak, but was abruptly cut off. "Let him be Brendon," Pete said, drawing his lips close to Brendon's neck as he rested his hand on Brendon's waist. Ryan felt himself scowl. "If he wants to sleep instead of joining us, we could always just–" Ryan didn't wait to hear the rest, promptly pushing himself off the couch and in between Brendon and Pete, grabbing Brendon's hand roughly in defense.

"Y'know, on second thought," Ryan said, slowly being drawn out of his half-asleep state as Pete stared at him, eyes wide in shock, "swimming does sound pretty fun."

* * *

"C'mon Ry, it's warm." Brendon urged, his straight, white teeth reflecting the bright poolside lamps as he gave Ryan an encouraging smile.

He shook out his wet hair, and Ryan knew the look he was giving him. Big doughy eyes, coy smile. Jesus. To let Brendon walk all over him or to not?

The pool lights were flashing bright colors, shadows from the tall lamps dancing across the choppy surface as people splashed, yelling loudly.

Ryan felt his face fall, his heart skipping a beat as Brendon looked up at him with his puppy dog expression. "It's, it's not that," Ryan stammered, self-consciously crossing his arms over his chest, "I just don't want to, that's all."

Pete's bathing suit was too loose around his waist and he had to pull it up to keep if from sinking too low on his waist. 

He leaned his weight back on the balls of his feet, giving Brendon what he hoped was a look of disinterest.

It's not that he didn't _want_ to swim, because the idea of kissing Brendon underwater, or picking a splash fight with him or even breaking his back to do that stupid chicken fight thing seemed fun, even if it was cliché and probably only romantic in chick flicks.

It's that he had no clue _how_ to.

When he said he knew nothing about swimming, he meant it. No floating, no treading, hell, he didn't even know how to do the dog paddle. Rambunctious, drunk juniors aside, a large hole full of a substance in which you could not breathe under is a large hole full of a substance Ryan did not want to be in.

Ryan huffed, staring at Brendon adoringly.

"If you come in I'll blow you later."

Ryan raised his eyebrows. "That desperate to suck me off?"

Brendon looked at him hopefully.

"No, sorry Bren I really just don't wanna swim, not the biggest fan of it y'know?"

Brendon pouted, fake sniffling as he shifted his feet around on the wet, tiled deck.

"Well now you've made him cry!" Pete shouted from the pool, hot anger flicking in Ryan's stomach. Fuck Pete. Pete didn't know shit.

Ryan sat there, completely unable to do anything, a broken look on his features.

Brendon sighed. "Fine. I'm going back in."

Ryan felt his heart drum against his chest as he silently cursed everyone from his mother to Spencer for not forcing him into swimming lessons when he was younger.

Brendon watched him silently as if he might change his mind, but when Ryan made no move to follow him, he opened his arms. "Kiss first."

Ryan sighed. "Of course babe." He mumbled almost incoherently, beginning to take a few short steps toward Brendon.

Brendon hummed happily, his lips spread wider in a smile as Ryan dropped his hands to his hips, Brendon wrapping his muscular arms around Ryan's shoulders tightly before dodging Ryan's lips.

"Aha!" He exclaimed, his faux sadness melting into sudden excitement a smile plastered across his lips. "Now you don't have a choice."

Ryan scowled, his heart spiking into his throat. "What, what do you mean?" His face paled as he tried to push Brendon away.

"I mean," Brendon said, tightening his grip and giving him a playful smile, "that you will swim with me Ryan Ross, even if I have to throw you in myself!"

The warmth of Brendon's arms disappeared as he pushed Ryan in the direction of the pool, a grin stretched across his face as Ryan felt his stomach drop, the flickering reflections on the water seeming to mock him as he frantically reached back out for Brendon's body. Ryan struggled, his arms flailing wildly as he felt his weight shift backwards, his feet falling out from underneath him as a sense of panic washed over his body, his heart beating hastily. "Brendon I can't–"

The first five seconds happened faster than the rest.

His tall body crumpled against the choppy surface of the pool, his heart rate rapidly increasing as bitter water covered his mouth and nostrils like a plug, the sounds of shouting around him muting as he clamped his eyes shut. Cold shock coursed through his nerves as he let out a strangled, muffled yell, noticing sharp bursts of pain protruding from his skin where it had smacked against the surface. He tried to kick, a jolt of terror freezing his body momentarily as he realized his motions were slowed, a stream of anxious bubbles passing through his lips as he felt his throat contract. His limbs started to cramp as they thrashed, desperately trying to push himself upwards while his light umber eyes began to ache behind the splotches of blue and yellow projected onto his eyelids. With each increasing second the gnawing fear in his gut had expanded, his heart pumping feverishly in his covered ears.

More seconds elapsed.

His brain drummed against his skull as he felt himself losing oxygen, discreet bubbles sliding out of his nose and lips as a swarm of chills spread across his frigid skin. He tried to yell again, another inaudible onslaught of air rushing past his mouth, as his head pounded; feeling too heavy for his neck. He felt his stomach quiver as he inhaled involuntarily, chlorine filled water flooding his mouth and throat as he gagged, his body uncontrollably curling into a ball as he sunk lower, coughing and spluttering aggressively. He felt himself shake, his eyes pushing themselves open as he squinted at the blurry mass of water in front of him, the reflections of white lights dancing overhead.

He stopped pushing with his exhausted arms, his body weak from lack of air as he felt himself slipping in and out of consciousness, the rims of his stinging eyes starting to fade to black as he struggled to keep them open. His mouth parted as he subconsciously gulped for air, a low buzzing sound ringing in his ears as his weary hands pulled away at the water helplessly. His heart spluttered in his chest as his skull started to twinge in discomfort, his body unfurling as water clogged his lungs, the rush of coughing slowing to a stop as he started drift further from the surface.

His long hair swirled around his cheeks until tears filled his cloudy, burning eyes, a wave of nausea pouring over him as he felt the water still around his drowning self, his head spinning. His insides felt constricted, his heart seemingly stationary in his chest as dark, black circles began to take over his vision, slowly growing until the last blurry ray of light was no longer visible, the inconsistent hum in his ears growing gradually louder until suddenly, everything went silent.


End file.
